


Idle Gossip

by eyemeohmy



Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Fantasizing, Flogging, Kinky stuff, M/M, Mild Squick?, Nonsticky, Profanity, Sexuality, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 18:17:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pharma really doesn't like it when his employees break the rules. Even when it’s just some lighthearted gossiping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idle Gossip

**Author's Note:**

> WELL LOOKY HERE. TWO FICS IN ONE NIGHT/MORNING.
> 
> So, apparently, when I’m frustrated, Ambulon is my whipping boy.
> 
> Er, literally, in this case.
> 
> Ho’boy.

"He seems stressed."

At the crooked glare, First Aid quickly added, "I mean, more than usual."

Ambulon stared at the nurse for a moment, his glower fading into something thoughtful. First Aid was right. For the past few weeks now, Pharma had grown increasingly agitated at - well - everything. He was more curt than usual; everything he said had an edge. He was a relatively patient doctor, but now he always seemed to be at his wit's end. Then there was the fact he kept having to leave the clinic for duties he refused to disclose to his "inferiors".

Ambulon honestly could care less what crawled up Pharma's fuselage. As long as he wasn't staggering or falling behind in work, let the princess bitch and moan. For no matter how aggressive and no-nonsense Pharma was, he was always diligent, always efficient. His bedside manners could use a little work, but so could Ambulon's and First Aid's.

It wasn't until Pharma basically ripped one of his patients a new waste disposal unit for them simply doubting something minor in their upcoming surgery. _The nerve! How dare they question the Mighty Pharma!_

That wasn't like him, however. Usually he was restrained, albeit clinical and detached, but he would not yell at his patients over such petty matters.

"What do you think it could be?" First Aid asked, keeping his voice hushed. He and his colleague stood some distance outside Pharma's office. The CMO was inside, pacing, if the constant zipping shadow past the frosted window was any indication.

Ambulon stroked his chin. "No idea," he mumbled. "It's not like there's been an influx of patients. He hasn't preformed any sort of stressful, demanding surgery or medical procedures lately. And all our supplies came in on time - for once."

First Aid tapped fingers to his mouthplate. "I'm worried," he muttered. "Something's got Pharma all twisted up and spooked. And if Pharma's falling apart, that means Delphi is quick to follow."

Pharma was not only in charge of the clinic, but Delphi was a mirror image of the CMO. During harsh times and cold, brutal snow and constant winter, it stood tall and proud and stubborn. It was an impressive little clinic and highly efficient. It boasted some of the most high tech and latest medical equipment Cybertron had to offer. It coupled business with care - though often of the "tough love" sort - very neatly.

"You're just over-exaggerting," Ambulon tsked. "Pharma's just going through a rough patch right now. We all do. The weather's been extra horrible on both the clinic and the mines, and maybe it is the lack of activity finally getting to his head." He shrugged. "I'm not saying Pharma likes having to patch up patients, but at least it gives him something to do on this cold rock. Stretch his intellect and preen his ego. I wonder which of the two he likes doing more."

First Aid sighed. "I guess..."

"Things are fine. Pharma's fine," Ambulon insisted. He swept a hand behind him. "Anyway, we shouldn't be gossiping. It's in poor taste."

"I'm off duty."

"Then head back to your quarters and, I don't know, edit Wrecker entries on the Autopediationary whatever."

First Aid would frown if he were capable.

Ambulon gave a half-assed apologetic look.

"Right," the nurse grumbled, "but... I can't shake this bad feeling."

"Well, take a walk," Ambulon said. "Because there is nothing to be worried abou--"

The door to Pharma's office suddenly slid open, slamming against the frame. First Aid and Ambulon jumped against one another, wide optics on the CMO. He looked like a scalpel was lodged in his aft plating. Suffice to say, not very happy. However, that irate expression melted into something formal and professional, and he was standing upright and proper, if not stiff. His wings twitched once.

"Ambulon," he said, firmly, and the younger medic intelligently pointed to his face, "I need to see you in my office." Pharma's steely gaze turned on the nurse. "You're off duty, aren't you?"

"Yeah," First Aid mumbled. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, started walking backwards. "I was just on my way. To my quarters. To recharge. To get a head start on work tomorrow."

Pharma nodded once. "Good. Ambulon." He thrust his chin out at the poorly painted medic. Without another word, he turned and moved back inside, door remaining open.

Ambulon watched him disappear, then turned back to First Aid. "I pray for your spark, my friend," the nurse whispered. Before he could receive a scowl, he turned the corner, leaving Ambulon by his lonesome. Bad energy poured from Pharma's office, completely uninviting and yet... tempting. As if it were beckoning Ambulon inside - with a middle finger.

Ambulon moved cautiously for the door. He expected one Hell of a massive lecture, though he had done nothing wrong lately as far as he was concerned. However, the moment he stepped inside and shut the door, what happened next was one Hell of a shock.

\---

No.

Literally.

Ambulon had been electrocuted. Like, right in the side. With a prod or something. He was on the floor a second later, vision turning black. Not before he got one last look at Pharma approaching him with something wicked gleaming in his optics.

\---

Whatever Pharma had used, it burned. Stinging the insides of the delicate ports. Some sort of balm, something Ambulon had never heard of before. Maybe it was used to heat up plating, but this was definitely not what it was made for.

Ambulon bit down in the gag in his mouth, trying to swallow the moans. The panels along his torso, down his inner thighs, and even along his neck had been flipped open. Interface equipment just spread so vulgarly. The balm had been smeared along the inner lining, and though it burned something fierce, it also... It also...

Ambulon shuttered his optics. He chewed into the gag, continued heaving and writhing slightly. God, this was unfair - the pain was also pretty damn arousing. He tried so very hard to ignore the strange, pleasing sensations, but his body continued twitching in a manner that, uh, would suggest otherwise. He felt like some sort of pleasurebot, and his hips bucked and back arched, and that only shot more tantalizing waves up and down his backstrut.

The ropes and medical tubing binding him were intricate in design. They weaved around his chassis beautifully. If he were not currently about to dry hump the air, he would admire the work. The ropes and tubing ran along his interface equipment as well, down and round and across sensitive dermal plating and biting into seams. Whenever he moved - even minutely - there was no pain; because the binds had been strategically placed in some of the most arousing parts of the body, when they ground down into his chassis, _oh_ , it was Heaven.

Ambulon wasn't sure he could take all this sensation. His sensors lit up like all the stars in the sky. It was almost _too_ much, in fact. He couldn't move without increasing the wonderful torture - that, and his feet had also been locked to the ground. Legs spread eagle, to make sure his interface ports along his thighs were completely exposed.

"Gossiping. _Really_. You do realize you're degrading my clinic by participating in such juvenile behavior."

Ambulon's optics, dimming and flashing, fell to Pharma, sitting at his desk adjacent of him by five feet. The medic looked displeased, scanning the - the _whip_ in his hand. For some reason - and maybe it was given his situation - the fact that Pharma owned a whip didn't seem that surprising. Sure, sometimes the medics would call their boss a slave driver, but they never once actually believed he'd have means of torture on him.

Pharma stood. "I'm disappointed in you, Ambulon. I expected such from First Aid, but not you," he said, and he sounded so damn unimpressed. As if his colleague wasn't bound and gagged and writhing like a wanton whore on his immaculate office floor. Pharma reached over and switched on a medium sized fan. "You should be ashamed." He then turned it on Ambulon, and oh God, the cold breeze blowing on the balm in his ports oh God. The former Decepticon half-groaned, half-cried into his gag, started twisting violently, and fuck, he'd forgotten how good the ropes felt--

Ambulon didn't think he could get an overload from all this, but his spark was certainly swelling up. Pharma approached his employee, squat at his feet, moving just a little between his spread legs. He peered, annoyed, at Ambulon staring down at him with fearful optics. "You forced me to do this. I didn't want to resort to punishing you, but..." He reached out one blue hand, touching Ambulon's knee. The medic whimpered as he watched the hand move down, down along his thigh and then a finger shoved itself into a port and Ambulon arched his back with a muffled squeal. "But you really leave me no choice, you know?"

Ambulon tried to speak, but all that came out were unintelligible noises. Not like Pharma was really listening. He probed the port with one finger, and Ambulon legs quivered, as if trying to close. A moment later, the CMO stood, turned and walked away. Not very far. He stood beside the fan, back to his employee. "You only have yourself to blame, Ambulon," he said, quietly. When he turned, he had the whip in both hands, stretched out, the edge coiled around his fingers.

Ambulon's optics nearly popped from his cranial chamber. No, oh no, no no no _no his body would not handle this could not handle this_ \-- He started thrashing now, ignoring all that pleasure, desperate to escape. Froze and arched when Pharma shoved the heel of his foot into his groin. "Be a good boy," the winged medic said, "and take your medicine."

"Take your medicine"? Ambulon was temporarily relieved of his shock to just... Did Pharma _really_ say something so ridiculously corny and--

"This doesn't have to hurt. Not entirely."

Ambulon stared at his boss. The cool look on his face, that managed to look both bored and annoyed; his beautiful, lean body, fitted with those gorgeous wings. So perfect, chiseled out of the finest material on Cybertron and blessed with medical prowess that always made Ambulon's jaw drop.

The respect he had for this Autobot was immense, and sometimes he forgot that he actually didn't really like him. Just when he thought Pharma couldn't possibly be anymore perfect, he preformed some intense, amazing surgery or gone through thick and thin, Heaven and high water, to save his patients' lives, and impressed Ambulon so very much that his awe of Pharma swelled in more than his spark.

It was weird, but all the sudden, Ambulon wasn't afraid anymore. He didn't fight. In fact, he spread his legs just an inch further. Inviting. His gaze equally welcoming; soft and thick with desire. One corner of Pharma's frown twitched; closest to a smile Ambulon was going to get right now.

"Good boy," Pharma hummed, and those words alone shot something down Ambulon's backstrut. The whip squeaked as Pharma gave it another testing tug before unfurling it, letting it fall and coil to the ground. In a flash of red and white, he drew his arm back, and snapped the whip forward.

Ambulon shrieked as it struck his interface equipment down his right thigh. It hurt, it hurt so damn much, but there was no denying that jolt of pleasure that quickly took over. Pharma drew the whip back and then struck Ambulon again, this time along his left thigh. Ambulon bucked and cried, falling back as the whip cracked down on his groin.

"See," Pharma said, coolly, as the whip struck Ambulon's chest, "I have an image and reputation to keep. I expect professionalism from all my employees." And Ambulon sobbed as the whip cracked his thigh again. Flecks of paint started to fly each time the whip slammed down and drew back, plating turning hotter and hotter. "I expect you to act like proper physicians. I expect you to respect the rules I have laid out."

Ambulon jerked to the side, riding against the ropes. Bad idea, because Pharma took that opportunity to whip his hip, the edge slapping his rear. Ambulon jolted and quickly rolled onto his back again. His cheekplates were burning, and coolant and lubricant pushed through his sensory netting and actuators in an attempt to control his core temperature.

"Yet you act like a youngling. An immature protoform," Pharma grunted. He thrust the whip down with extra force this time, and Ambulon screeched as it burned against his chest. "You were nothing when I found you. Nothing but a poor, sickly little traitor in need of help. I brought you in. Took you under my wing, so to speak. Built you from dirt into a fairly decent surgeon. And this is the thanks I get?" The edge of the whip grazed Ambulon's right cheek, and he whined. It left behind a powerfully hot throb.

"I am." Another. "So." And another. " _Disappointed_." Harder this time. "In you." Hard enough to nearly burn out Ambulon's glitching optics.

Ambulon's vocalizer was close to shutting down. His throat was hoarse. He wasn't sure he could even whimper now. Pharma drew his whip back and let it rest at his side. He examined his work. All the hot spots; a few dents; even some bleeding, fuchsia energon trickling from the more thin dermal plating lining around the throbbing interface ports.

Ambulon could not tear his gaze from Pharma. He looked so very pitiful, a thin line of energon running down his cheek where the whip caught him. So pitiful and so unbelievably turned on. Motherfuck. Though he expected Pharma was done, now that he was turning away, pushing the fan aside. The heat only climbed to the surface of his plating and armor now and he wiggled.

Pharma placed the whip on the ground then went on one knee. He began to untie Ambulon's feet from the steel rings in the ground (where did those come from?). Ambulon watched, not sure if he was relieved or disappointed. Once his feet were free, Pharma stood; Ambulon tried to move, but now the pain was overwhelming any pleasure and he resorted to lying there, heaving and venting moistly into his gag.

"Get up," Pharma ordered.

Ambulon stared, pleading. No. No, he was in too much pain. He couldn't possibly move. Pharma was a doctor - he knew he couldn't. "Get up," Pharma repeated. When Ambulon just blinked, he kicked him harshly in the thigh, causing the medic to roll with a shriek. "I won't tell you again," the CMO scowled.

Ambulon moaned. This wasn't nearly as much fun anymore. He tried to move, really did. It took quite a bit of effort. However, as long as he tried, Pharma kept still, watching him with those scrutinizing optics. As if he were studying and testing Ambulon's skills during surgery. Five minutes passed, and Ambulon had barely managed to sit up. His legs wobbled as he fell forward on his knees, and he sobbed, shoulders shaking, torso limping over. He had to look so damn pathetic right now.

"Now," Pharma said, and spun a finger, "turn around."

Ambulon blinked again. Sighing, he shuffled around on his knees in one slow, painful circle, back to his boss. He barely managed to turn his head back, looking at him... for approval?

"Face down on the ground," Pharma ordered. "Present yourself."

Oh.

Oh.

Ambulon sniffled. Before Pharma could launch his foot into his back, Ambulon bent forward, slowly, carefully. He pressed his cheek against the floor; it was cold, so wonderfully cold. His hands still bound behind his back, those ropes now straining into the seams of his thighs and groin. He raised his aft as high as he could, and more pressure against those wonderful points made him shiver. That was unintentional, but he was sure Pharma would appreciate it.

Pharma said nothing, no words of gratitude. Ambulon should have known better. He approached his colleague, stood right behind him. The glass of his hot fuselage rubbed against Ambulon's aft and it was hard not to grind back. Pharma reached down, and Ambulon's optics widened when he realized - he was opening armor on his back. Not just any armor - that which was surgically placed there by those who experimented on him. Parted it so there was just plain, very sensitive plating beneath.

This was-- What was this? Good or bad? Shit.

A blue hand suddenly appeared at his face, and in a flash, the gag was yanked from out of his mouth. Ambulon vented heavily, coolant welling forward into a few rivets down his chin. "Pha--Pharmmm." He sounded so hoarse, voice coming out in a rasp. But the CMO said nothing and just walked away.

"Start counting, Ambulon," Pharma ordered. "If you lose your place, we have to start all over again."

Ambulon swallowed. "Y... Yhew..."

Then, the whip fell, cracking down on Ambulon's back. Right along those dermal plates. Ambulon screamed, and then it was quiet. As if... Pharma was waiting. Ambulon swallowed again, and whispered, "O-One."

The whip struck again. Ambulon's optics squinted. "T-Two..."

Three. "Tha... Tha-ree." Ambulon bit hard into his bottom lip. Four. "Fff--Four." God, and the whip was just biting and tearing into the plating. He could feel energon pool between the armor. The fifth strike sent his optics shuttering, switching offline a moment. "Five!"

Six. "Sssssix." Seven. "Sev--seven." Eight. "Ahnn--Eight." Nine, ten, eleventwelvethirteen-- "Wa--wait, Phar--Pharma, w-wait! A-aah! I--I can't!" Pharma was going too fast, the whip snapping over and over with room barely in between. "Pharma, p-please! T-Too fast you're going too f--!"

Then, Pharma stopped. Ambulon took a moment to breathe. He strained his optics back, confused.

"How many?"

Ambulon stiffened. That hurt like Hell. His mind scrambled, trying to think. To remember. But Pharma had gone so fast, he couldn't catch up.

"How _many_?"

Ambulon could see streams of energon cut down his spread legs, bleeding from the wound in his back. His optics shuttered. "I--I, sss... I--"

" _How many, Ambulon_?"

"T-Twenty! Twenty!" Ambulon sobbed out, gritting his denta. He hoped to God that was the number. It had-- It had to be.

"Incorrect."

Ambulon felt his spark drop into his tank.

Pharma tightened his grip around the hilt of the whip. "Start over," he ordered.

"I--I don't--" But the whip cracked down again, against white hot heat and tingling numbness. Ambulon grunted. "O-One." This time, the whip struck across his aft, surprising him. "T-ta-two!"

Another slap against his aft, and with each number, Ambulon found his rear raising as if... as if inviting more?

"S-Seven... Ea--eight... Nhhnnine!" The speed was picking up again, but Ambulon was determined to keep track. "Tenele _ahn!_ ventwa--twelvethur--thurttee--Sigsigmafourteen!" But faster now, faster, and Ambulon could feel himself slipping again. "Fifteen--sixtee--se--sa--!" He slammed his forehead into the ground, shrieking. Bounced it against the floor once, twice, th-- He was counting this, too! "Pharm--Pharma! Aaah! N-No m--mmm--twen--twenty-one! S-Stop, pa--please!"

And through all of this, through all of this pain, Ambulon's overload was growing and growing, coming closer and closer--

"I'm s-sorry! Pharma, I'm _sorry_!"

The whipping stopped. It was quiet, still, for one whole minute. Ambulon thanked whatever deity looking out for him (doing a real shit job right now) for that minute. Venting and bleeding and drooling and whimpering.

The medic could hear Pharma's footfalls as they moved up behind him again. "Good boy," Pharma said, gently. "Overload." He shoved the heel of foot, hard, into the small of Ambulon's bleeding back, and as if triggered, Ambulon screamed as his overload finally released, sending his body into near shutdown.

God, and it was the most fucking _wonderful_ overload of his life.

Pharma allowed his employee to relax - well, to the best of his abilities - for a few minutes. Ambulon flopped onto his side. He couldn't feel most of his body. All of it numb and hot and tingling. His optics dimmed and he vented loudly, coolant leaking from the corner of his mouth. Little sparks of fading energy popped along his body, settling a minute later. The small puddle of energon felt sticky and lukewarm beneath him.

Pharma squatted beside Ambulon. His optics glitched, the CMO coming off as mostly a blur. "I apologize if I was rather harsh, but I had to make sure I got my _point_ across," he insisted. His fingers traced feather soft caresses along Ambulon's jaw, down his chin, oh so gently. And Ambulon couldn't help it if his tongue peeked out to lick the edges of those digits resting on his bottom lip.

"You're really such a good boy," Pharma hummed, and his thumb pushed between those lips. Ambulon sucked on it once, before petting his tongue against its padding. "Stay on your best behavior and we won't have to repeat this little lesson. Understand?"

Ambulon gagged as fingers hooked into his mouth and around his chin, yanking him up and nearly hard enough to dislocate his jaw. Pharma pulled him into a kiss then, his tongue in his mouth and tasting along the inside of his cheeks, along his denta, and suddenly, the pain shooting in his jaw and all through his beaten body just... disappeared.

Ambulon switched off his tired optics and gave in.

"Ambulon? Ambulon? ... _Ambulon_!"

Ambulon gasped, suddenly jolting where he stood. His dim optics lit up brightly, looked at the nurse beside him.

First Aid tilted his head. "Are you all right?" he asked. "You, uh, you sorta went on auto-pilot there for a moment."

Ambulon vented deeply and rubbed his face. Wait, had he been drooling? Goddammit. "I'm ff-fine," he stuttered, hoarsely.

First Aid hummed.

"What?"

"Nothing," the nurse sighed. He nodded to Pharma's office door. "I guess we should get going, before he catches us gossiping. You know how he hates goss--"

" _I know_ ," Ambulon interjected, a bit too enthusiastically. First Aid cast him a weird look - in his own way. Ambulon sniffed and folded his arms and said, very sternly, "So I think we should stand here in front of his office and talk a little longer."

**Author's Note:**

> Are you tired of these endings from me? No? Good.


End file.
